


12 Days of Christmas

by WinchesterSis24601



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8983588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterSis24601/pseuds/WinchesterSis24601
Summary: 12 different Christmases celebrated by the boys through their years of hunting, growing and becoming a stronger family.





	1. John and Mary's First Christmas

The soft notes of Christmas music floated into the bedroom followed by the sharp smell of burnt cinnamon. Suddenly the smoke alarm cried out.

"Shit," a voice cursed. Mary smiled into her pillow before sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. She slipped off the bed and shuffled into the kitchen. Smoke filled the room and John, still in his pajamas, was jumping around and flapping a towel at the smoke alarm in an attempt to clear the room and quiet the angry thing down. Mary chuckled and went to the nearest window and opened it to let the smoke out. Bitter cold drifted in and bit Mary's noise. She stuck her hands in the pocket of her hoodie to warm them and turned to smile at her husband. John had run to the oven to turn it off and proceeded to reach into the oven, bare handed, to grab the pan of blackened cinnamon rolls.

"Shit," he cursed again and began shaking his burnt hand. He went over to the sink and began running his hands under cold water. Mary chuckled, got some pot holders and pulled the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Then she came up behind her husband and hugged him.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered in his ear. He turned off the water and turned around.

"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed," he said. She smiled.

"Why don't we have cereal instead?"

"What?" His expression changed quickly from one of disappointment to a teasing smirk. "You don't want to try and make some?" His hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer to him.

"I think our ovens been through enough," she answered. Instead of saying more, he leaned in and kissed her.

"I got you something," he whispered as they pulled away, his breath brushing her lip.

"Really?" Mary asked, opening her eyes but not moving back. They spoke quietly as if talking too loud would break the moment. "Presents for Christmas? When did that start?" John pulled back and gave her a look.

"If you talk back, you're not getting it," he pretended to scold.

"I'm sorry," Mary said. "What'd you get me?" John tried to move around her but she didn't let go. He pushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled. His hands slowly moved down her waist and he kissed her and turned her back to the sink, then he pulled away and went to the kitchen table.

"Close your eyes," he said. Mary did as she was told, still standing by the sink and smiling. John came back and wrapped one arm around his wife and used the other to place something cold and round in Mary's hand. "Alright," he whispered. "Open 'em." Mary opened her eyes and looked down at the small round ornament. On the silver circle pressed into her palm were painted two snowmen kissing and under it read: Our First Christmas Together. Mary looked up at her husband. John smiled proudly at her. She laughed and put her hand on his cheek.

"I love it," she said.

"Our first Christmas together," John said. "How's it going so far?"

"So far?" Mary pretended to think about it. "It's my favorite."

"Burnt breakfast and all?" John asked. Mary chuckled.

"My favorite," she said, "Here's to many more." She kissed him again.


	2. A Winchester Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A three-year-old Dean celebrates Christmas with his parents.

It sounded like a herd of cows were trampling down the stairs and John groaned as the stampede passed his doorway. He rolled around and put his arm over his wife as he pushed himself up a little to look at the clock. 5:00. He sighed and put his forehead on Mary's upper arm. She chuckled. He smiled.

"I thought you were asleep," John said.

"You kidding?" Mary asked. "How could anyone sleep through that?"

"Aren't you supposed to sleep in on a holiday?" John asked. Mary smiled and kissed him.

"That was before kids." John kissed her again but was interrupted by a squeal.

"Shit," he cursed and flew out of bed. He flung the door open and barreled down the stairs to find his son in the middle of a pile of wrapping paper, holding the new stuffed toy John had bought him. "Dean," John's voice was loud and stern and his son dropped the toy and looked up at him with guilt in his green eyes. "You need to wait." John said and scooped up the toy.

"John," Mary came out of the room. "It's Christmas."

"He can't open the presents until we're ready," John argued. Mary sighed and knelt down in front of Dean.

"Hey, Dean," she smiled. "You need to wait for mommy and daddy to open anymore, okay?" Dean went in for a hug but Mary held him back. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said then hugged her. She smiled and ran her hand over his hair. Then she stood back up and went into the kitchen. John followed her but turned to see Dean still sitting, staring longingly at the still wrapped presents.

"Dean," he said, "Wait."

After presents had been unwrapped and Dean had helped clean up the wrapping paper, they settled in for some dessert. Mary brought out the nice warm pie topped with vanilla ice cream and set it down in front of her two boys, rubbing her hand over her husband's hair as she did so. She grabbed her own and sat down to join them. At first Dean used his spoon to scoop up bits of pie and ice cream, mimicking his father's movements, but eventually, when he lost patience, he began using his hands. Soon there was more ice cream and berries on his face then in his mouth.

"Dean," John said sternly. The boy stopped with bits of pie still in his hand and a terrified look in his green eyes. "Slow down," John's voice was a bit harsh. Mary put a gentle hand on his thigh and smiled at him.

"Use your spoon," she told Dean. The little boy nodded and picked his spoon back up, smearing pie and ice cream everywhere as he did so. John let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. Mary squeezed his leg. She picked up their plates and went over to the sink while Dean finished up his dessert. When he had taken his last bite, he looked up at John with a smile smothered in purple and white. John smiled back and shook his head.

"Merry Christmas, daddy," the little boy said.

"Merry Christmas, Dean."


End file.
